


Blest

by CinderPath



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, A Monthly Rumbelling February 2019, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 12:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17939312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderPath/pseuds/CinderPath
Summary: Belle sees Mr. Gold walking in the rain.





	Blest

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting for A Monthly Rumbelling. Apologies in advance. Working with the prompts 'rain, rowboat, cuddling, poetry'.

She saw him through a window, wandering in the rain. He walked as though there were nothing amiss, shoulders unhunched, head upwards. Undaunted, or was he elsewhere?

He was too far to hear her, too far to see her, so she studied him. Thought of him, wanted him. She'd wanted him all day, felt his phantom hands paint trails over her body as she sat behind her desk, as she placed books on shelves. Haunted in the emptiness of the building.

He in her mind had whispered as she'd been reading a returned book of poetry. The imagery was him, their nights, their days, and then he was before her in whole.

His mind was away, it seemed, far away until finally she was able to call out to him.

Removed from his silent vigil, he turned to see her standing in the light of the open door.

She ushered him to her with a sweeping of her hands, her open arms.

He paused for a moment, registering what was silently being given to him, the depth of the offer. The depth of her every offer. _How did he deserve her?_ But he couldn't turn away, not when she was what he wanted more than anything. Near her he could the same as fall into some unnamable void. A void that was like the gift of air to the drowning.

All she could do was take him into her arms, the arms that already held him. Arms that always held him no matter how far he was from her.

Hands went to his cold and wet face, and he closed his eyes for the warmth of them. He shuddered into her, collapsed into her. She felt it in the way he moved his head, leaned in closer to her bones. Closer to her heart.

He did not think of the bones, he did not think of skin, the organ heart, only her, though she was made of things unimagined. He saw her eyes — the sea — and her honeyed lips. "Oh," she said, running fingers through his hair. Her voice was soft, sad, worried. Beads of rain dotted over her fingers, falling stars. And the floor was wet, she was wet with his rain, but she didn't mind.

Rocking slow. More of her bones touching him now, seemingly rising from her flesh to meet him. An elbow, a hip. He followed her to her room, as if under a spell.

She left him for a moment to get an extra sheet, and he shivered, wondering why he had been so stupid. _Why had he always been so stupid?_ He searched the room, seeing framed paintings on the wall, ones he didn't remember, a rowboat, an empty beach. Always the sea and its churning tides, his siren.

She returned, her hair pulled back, and he could hear the rain against the window, stronger now. Stronger than it had been.

She didn't ask what was wrong, what had made him step into the rain. She didn't need to. It was in his eyes. In his hands, his mouth, though not said.

_Bae._

_Bae is gone._

_Bae is gone because of me._

She whispered in the silence of her room, the deafening heartbeat of her bed which was calling him, calling her. She answered, leading him to the darkness it promised, the warmth. She took off his jacket and his shirt, her working fingers stopping at his waist. His limbs would be required for the transference, and he removed the cloth with fumbling fingers and legs.

So cold, shaking, as he sank to the bed and beneath the covers. She followed, closing herself around him, limbs covering him, holding him. Holding all of him. His back to her stomach and breasts. He gasped for air as her lips pressed against his wet hair, his sadness welling up, choking him.

The sounds tensed her stomach, created tears of her own that she held back. She continued to kiss him, hoping that through her mouth her heart would emerge, fill and the same as heat his flesh. Through the tunnels of his veins, it would reach his heart. Calm him, calm it; a caged sparrow. The door could later open, for now its wings needed rest. It had flown too far in the rain. Too far in pain.

In moments, his breath evened, eased by her touch, her love. He sought her hand and rolled to his side, meeting her, face wet now with tears. She kissed them away, kissed his lips. Slowly, fervently, she fell into him as well. Fell deeper and deeper into the man, into the kiss.

He knew he would die without her. He had died in her now. _Was he gone, was this death? It seemed too good to be life. His life._

He loved her too much.

_How could she ever know how much?_

_"_ You'll never know how much," she said.


End file.
